A Day in Acapulco
by EtchedInDiamond
Summary: Based off of SpaceAstronautCapt.RobotKoala's story: Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque. Doesn't give out any spoilers, so don't worry. Some swearing Greg Olsen's a potty mouth , and a somewhat graphic scene of torture and violence. SpaceAstronautCapt.RobotKoala has read and approved of this one-shot. Please, enjoy!


**An: It's a little short, I know. This is Joshua-centric, so it's mainly on the day of his death. I hope you like it! **

**DISCLAIMER: This one-shot is based off of Space 's amazing Alex Rider fanfic ****Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque****. Most of these characters are characters of the aforementioned author's creation, and I do not take credit for them in anyway. The author herself/himself has read and approved of it. This is inspired by the author, and I give credit for the encouragement. I suggest you all read that fanfic. It is really, very good! **

**1354 hours, July 16, 2003 / (Military Calendar)\ Acapulco de Juárez, Guerrero, Mexico**

A warm noonday sun shone pleasantly over Acapulco de Juárez.

The city was vibrant with life and color. The streets were packed full with tourists and natives, an occasional _gringo _snapping pictures here and there. The beach nearby was a scene of summer fun; many swimmers and visitors relished in the warm tide and sandy coast.

If it had been any other day, Joshua Daniels would have gladly joined the ecstatic throng of people enjoying the Mexican city. However, this wasn't just any day.

He took another sip from the martini. The balcony he was on overlooked Acapulco Beach, giving him a stunning view of the ocean. He tilted his head upwards, reveling in the Pacific breeze. The young man downed the drink and went back into his hotel room, stripping off his burgundy dress robe the moment his feet touched soft carpet. There was a beep, and the service phone by his bed rang.

"Hey, Joshie," a jovial voice called in a sing-song voice. "Surf's up in twenty. Bring your board."

"Gotcha, Greg," Joshua grumbled, pulling on a red tee over his brand new Kevlar vest. He wriggled into his jeans, slipping a knife into his pants holster and strapping two Glocks to his waist. A loose jacket came next, and Joshua inspected himself in the mirror. He resembled a bored American bachelor going for a city stroll. Joshua frowned and looked at his briefing paper. He was spot on.

The agent exited his hotel room, careful to hide his CIA files if any intruders came snooping. He closed the door and found David Reyes waiting for him in the hallway. David fell into stride beside him. "Agent Daniels," he greeted, eyes straight ahead. "I trust you had a good rest?"

Joshua shrugged. "I slept five hours and I feel great. Anything beats that ten hour stakeout yesterday."

David chuckled as they turned the corner. "Yeah? Well, guess what?"

"What?"

"Castillo's in town."

Joshua nearly tripped over his own feet. He tried to keep the wide-eyed look from his face. His old instructor had always said such expressions looked novice on an agent's countenance, and he didn't want to disappoint Reyes. It was his first assignment, after all. "Damn. _The_ Adrian Castillo? The man who controls over a quarter of the world drug trade?"

"The one and only. Slippery bastard's got the higher ups in Langley scrambling for their pants ever since Scorpia employed him last year. If he's here, this might be the only chance to take him out." David finally glanced at his subordinate. "You alright, Daniels? You look a little pale."

Joshua gave a weak laugh. "Do I? I don't know, Reyes," he replied, overwhelmed. "I just…wasn't expecting that."

They walked into an elevator, silent for a moment as they traveled down to the lobby. "Your parents asked for you last night," David revealed quietly. "They seemed worried."

Joshua snorted. "Typical mom and dad. I don't think they know they're scaring Addie whenever they stress out about me." At the mention of his sister, Joshua perked up and nudged David. "Hey, remember when I visited that jeweler the other day?"

"You mean when you went off radar without our knowledge and consent?" David grunted. The elevator slid open with a beep, and they walked into the busy lobby, dodging through the crowd of tourists.

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Sure. Well, Addie's birthday is coming up. Look what I got her."

Joshua dug into his pocket and fished out a beautiful engraved ring. He showed it to David, who softened a little and grinned. "That's sweet. What does it say?" David asked, leaning closer.

Joshua flashed it by his eyes and put it back, patting his pocket. "I'll let Addie tell you once she gets it."

They exited the hotel. The two were immediately met with the sounds and smells of Acapulco, nearly barreling through a family with tacky Hawaiian shirts. David pointed across the street at a hot dog vendor. "There's our informant," he whispered. "Goes by Hot Dog, if you're curious."

"Mexicans never were a creative people," Joshua jibed, earning him a sock on the arm. They jaywalked across the road, reaching the overweight native, who was busy arguing with a customer in Spanish. The man noticed the two and waved the other guy away, throwing some curses over his shoulder.

"Can you believe it?" the man scoffed in lightly accented English. "_Hombre_ can't tell the difference between ketchup and mustard. I swear, _gringos_, Acapulco_ es un lugar extraño._"

"Cool," replied David dully. The agent fished into his pocket and handed him a dollar. "Did he come by yet?"

"You mean the other guy?" Hot Dog asked, engrossed in preparing the snack for David. "Yeah, he came by. Told me to tell you to meet him by the pier. Here you go, _amigo_."

"Thanks," David said, taking a bite. "_Muy sabroso. Muchas gracias._"

"_De nada, _homes. Catch you later."

The two agents nodded and walked away. Once they were out of sight, David threw the half-eaten hot dog into a public trash bin. Joshua frowned. "I thought you said it was good."

"Yeah, well, I lied. Worst dogs I've tasted, and I've tasted some pretty nasty ones. Just ask my wife."

Joshua smiled and laughed as they made their way down to the pier. He tried not to stare as two girls in bikinis roller-skated down the sidewalk. _Man, you need to get a girlfriend_. They finally made it to the wooden port, where Greg was fidgeting uncomfortably. He shook his head as they approached him. "What took so damn long?" Greg hissed, shaking their hands limply. "Castillo could've left town and went to China for all we know while you two were fucking around."

"Nice to see you too, Olsen." David rolled his eyes. "What's the word on our bogie?"

"We're not in the Navy, Reyes," Greg snorted. "Anyways, we spotted him chatting it up with a bunch of other sickos in a beachside cantina, _La Bella Dama_. We got ID's on three of them: Yuri Menshikov, Raul Villanueva, and Paolo Cruz. All big drug traffickers."

"Jesus Christ," David snapped, looking around. Anyone could've been snooping around. "Who knows, maybe one of them could be watching us right now, Olsen. Couldn't you have picked a better spot?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, boss man, we've got the area secured. We're CIA, not the fucking Mystery Gang."

"When are we going to stop him?" asked Joshua. He felt slightly left out. His mother had always told him to get involved in mission planning, especially big ones like this. Greg seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Aren't you a little Scout, Daniels," Olsen sighed. "We can't touch Castillo, Joshie. Not in a place like this. We wait around, lie low. The only way to take him down is to play his game."

"Yeah, but how many times did that succeed?" Joshua responded.

"Daniels," David warned.

Greg's blocky face darkened. "Look, kid, I know it's your first assignment, but you don't go in guns-a-blazin' Stormtrooper style. Stuff like this takes planning. We've lost too many good agents taking Castillo head on."

Joshua looked away, humbled. He shouldn't have reacted the way he did. "I'm sorry." He had to force the words out through gritted teeth.

"Enough of this," Reyes spat. "We don't have time to squabble. Olsen, where's his last location?"

"He's still at the cantina. Menshikov left an hour ago. Apparently he felt left out when they all started speaking beaner. It's just Adrian, Raul, and Paolo now."

"Good. Let's get to HQ. We need a plan, and we need it know."

/XXXXXXXXXXXXXX\

Joshua smiled tightly and accepted the glass from the slender woman, placing it on his tray and heading for the kitchen. His eyes strayed to David, who was laughing with another customer, speaking rapid fire Spanish while serving him juice.

The plan was clever, if not a little risky. Pose as waiters on their afternoon shift and try to catch snippets of the three drug dealers' conversation. If they couldn't catch all of it, the recorders they had smuggled in would do the job for them. The former Hollywood make-up specialists had worked on Joshua for just ten minutes, but he looked like just another young Mexican man living in Acapulco. David required no touch-ups; he was born and bred in Mexico City.

"_Perdón_?" a mellow voice asked.

Joshua put on his waiter face and looked down.

Adrian Castillo looked rather unassuming up close. He had tanned skin, and he wore a casual dress shirt and slacks. His features were slender, almost womanish, but Joshua knew better than to underestimate him. Thin eyebrows perched over piercing grey eyes, eyes that hardened when Joshua failed to respond.

"_Me gustaría hablar con su gerente, por favor_," Castillo pressed. "_La carne de cerdo salada es absolutamente delicioso_."

"Uh…_repita, por favor?_" Joshua stammered. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead. _Do not screw this up, Joshua._ He swallowed and smiled amiably, tilting his head as if to hear the request again. One of the others, a sallow-faced man that Joshua recognized as Raul from the briefing, said something quickly in Spanish.

All three of them laughed, and Joshua stared dumbly. "_Quieres algo?_"

David suddenly appeared next to Joshua, laughing along with the others. "_Es su primer día,_" Reyes chuckled, gesturing to Joshua. "_Usted quería hablar con el gerente?_"

David led Joshua away and called for the manager, who was in on the operation. The potbellied man smiled nervously and spoke with the three men, growing less and less panicky as Castillo praised his salted pork. David pulled Joshua away once they were out of earshot.

"What the hell was that all about?" David hissed.

"I-I spaced out," Joshua answered, flushing furiously. He had not been quite so ashamed in his life. "I won't do it again."

"Damn right you won't. We're pulling out of here. Now."

David wrapped his arm around Joshua's shoulders, chortling and telling him a racy joke in Spanish. He laughed along, gripping his sides to emphasize the act. Joshua could feel the eyes of the men on them, but he ignored them. When they exited the sweltering hot cantina, they swaggered down the pier, maintaining their friendly attitude until they were well out of danger. An F-150 pulled over, and the two agents dressed as waiters climbed in, letting themselves have a relieved breath.

"I would ask you what the hell went on in there," Greg remarked from the driver's seat. "But judging by the bashful look on Joshie's face, he screwed up. Don't worry, kid, we got what we needed."

"Excellent," David cheered. He faced Joshua and ruffled his brown hair. "See, kid. Something good came out after all."

/XXXXXXXXXXXXXX\

"Adrian Castillo," Greg Olsen announced to the agents arrayed around the table. "6'2. Latino male, born in Guadalupe. Joined a gang in his younger years, quickly rose up the ranks to become a major boss in the area. As far as we know, he established a massive trade network stretching from Los Angeles to Bogota in a span of three years. How, we don't know. What we do know is that in November 2002 Scorpia took him under their wing. He's been Public Enemy Number 2 ever since.

"Just five weeks ago one of our contacts spotted him booking a room at the Acapulco Hotel and Resort. Sent our guys in Virginia tripping all over themselves to mobilize. So, here we are, trying to catch a man at a close second behind Osama fucking Bin Laden."

"With all due respect, Olsen," Reyes cut in, slightly impatient. "Can you get to the point?"

Greg licked his lips. "Of course, Agent Reyes." A grainy picture of Castillo and the others in the cantina appeared on the screen. "This is Castillo, along with two major drug traffickers by the name of Raul Villanueva and Paolo Cruz. Russian mobster Yuri Menshikov was with them earlier, but he left before we could bug the place."

"What was the conversation about?" Reyes prompted. Joshua could tell he was clearly anxious to hear.

"He's planning to extend his empire," Olsen revealed without further ado. Joshua, David, and the others reeled at the news. "With those bastards' help, he's going to try to go into Texas, Oklahoma, and beyond. Our devices even recorded him talking about buying a penthouse up in NYC."

The room was silent for a moment. "Well," Joshua piped up. "We can't let that happen, can we?"

Greg's eyes twinkled for a split second. "No. I don't believe we can."

/XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX\

Joshua stumbled into his hotel room and fell on top of his bed. He was, by every definition of the word, _exhausted_. Greg would have to wait at the location for the dead drop, because Daniels was bushed. The young agent flipped over on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Castillo. They had found Adrian Castillo. And, if Greg's words were true, he was only a few blocks away. Every nerve in Joshua's body tingled with anticipation. It was his first assignment, and he was going to help in the overthrow of a criminal emperor.

His thoughts drifted to home as his excitement died down. He remembered Addie tearfully hugging him farewell at the airport, and his parents wearing proud smiles. He had promised Addie a surprise for her birthday; he smiled wistfully and fingered the silver ring in his pocket. He pictured the overjoyed face of his little sister, and the small smile evolved into a full out grin.

There was a knock on his door.

Every happy thought instantly seeped from Joshua. No one but Reyes and Olsen knew about his room. Joshua frowned and reached for the guns on his waist, his heart hammering inside his chest.

The door crashed open.

Joshua instantly moved as a man in a stained hoodie fired wildly into the room. The CIA agent went low, bursting open both the intruder's kneecaps. The Mexican howled and fell, clutching his legs. Three more came in, AK-47's up and ready. Joshua's eyes widened and he dove behind his bed. Rounds tore into the soft cloth, sending cotton and feathers flying in the air. He went up, dual wielding the sidearms and firing into the trio.

Time slowed down as the jacketed rounds ripped into a bald one's chest. Heavily tattooed skin gave way under the hail, and blood spurted out of the grievous wound like some twisted fountain. Joshua's finger froze on the trigger. Every inch of his body started to shake. He had just killed a man. He fought through the wave of guilt, firing once again at the remaining two.

But it was too late.

They tackled him to the ground, punching and kicking like feral animals. Joshua's training disappeared, and instinctive carnal savagery took over. They struggled like wildcats, growling and snarling on the floor. Joshua didn't have time to feel ashamed or embarrassed. It was his life on the line. He punched one in the nose, feeling it crack under his knuckles.

Pain exploded in his gut. He looked down to see a knife sticking into his stomach. He frowned, confused. _Is that…is that supposed to be there?_ A fist collided against his cheek, and stars flew in his vision.

"Like that, _gringo?_" one of his assailants spat. The squat man kicked Joshua in the ribs. A whimper escaped his lips. "That's what you get for killing Javier, _higo de puta_." He reached for the knife embedded in Joshua's torso and twisted upwards.

Joshua gasped, his vision going black. The other one snarled and took out another blade, this one huge and gleaming. The young agent's heart hammered in fear, and he screamed as the Bowie knife slashed against his chest. They continued to abuse him, and hot tears fell from Joshua's eyes. _No. No, no, no, no, no. It's not supposed to be like this. It's not_ – he howled and sobbed as they went down to his legs – _supposed to end this way_.

The ring in his pocket seemed to burn like a coal. Addie was there, suddenly, smiling her beautiful smile and taking his hand.

_Addie. Oh, Addie. I love you._

The pain didn't seem to hurt so much, knowing she was there at his side. They cut and tore at him, but all he could see was her, and all he could do was smile.

_Addie, I love I love I love you I love you I love you I love…_

She laughed and led him into the soft light. He wondered how his parents would think. They'd be sad, he figured. Reyes would be horrified, and Greg would curse and spit like a ten-year-old. Joshua tried to laugh at the picture, but something was bubbling his throat and blocking air passage. Everything became warm inside, and he floated up and up and up, Addie Daniels there beside him, guiding him to Heaven…

/XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX\

He had been watching the whole time.

The young agent went quiet after the men had spilt his guts, but he was still alive. The fact that he wasn't squirming and screaming anymore disappointed him, but he was satisfied with watching him bleed out. When his men were finished with the face, one could hardly recognize the handsome young man at all. The watcher smiled. If only he could see the looks on the CIA handler's ugly mug when he saw this beautiful mess. The artists got up, breathing heavy. "All done, _muchachos_?" he asked, beaming proudly.

"Yeah, boss," Mario said, spitting on the corpse. "He got Javier, and Renaldo is down."

The man shrugged. "You won't have to worry about Renaldo. I took care of him."

The two men glanced at Renaldo. He lay on the ground, a bullet hole in his skull. They looked to their leader, eyes wide. He shrugged again. "He was down, like you said. He was useless to me."

"Whatever you say," Mario grumbled.

"_Perdón?_" the man asked, leaning closer.

"Whatever you say," the gangster looked up. He wilted under the gaze of one of the most powerful men in the world. "Señor Castillo."

Castillo nodded and smiled. "Much better." He reached into his pocket and took out the hot dog he had made earlier that morning. Adrian Castillo, a.k.a Hot Dog, grinned. "Now, who's hungry?"

**AN: Liked it? Hated it? Either way, review, and make sure to take a look at ****Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque ****when you're done!**


End file.
